My buddy Jim is as old-school as they get when it comes to hunting. In his world you don't shot does, you don't shoot small bucks, and you don't hunt until the rut. That's just how it is. You go after big bucks and only big bucks.

There's no such thing as scent control, fancy new bows, fancy new camos, or any of the other modern type stuff that we get all hyped up about. Put on your old faded camo, sit in a ladder stand, and whack big bucks. That's Jim in a nutshell.

So anyways, ol' Jimmy decides that it's November 5th so he's gonna finally get out and do some dee hunting. He grabs his bow and heads out his back door into the back of his lot through which the Kishwaukee River runs. With his hip boots on he walks across the river and before he can ascend the steep bank on the other side he sees a large buck, not 20 yards away, looking the opposite direction. He knocks an arrow, stands up, and puts one through the boiler room. The deer runs 50 yards and piles up.

So let me sum this up for you all - Jim hasn't hunted a single day all year until this day, he hasn't made it 80 yards from his back door and isn't even in his stand yet, and he whacks a monster. What luck!

I'm thinking about putting on my rubber gloves and fishing that horseshoe out of his butt in prepration for this weekend!